


A Twisted Chord

by HonestVal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcoholism, Bisexual Harry Potter, Dimension Travel, Gay Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Nightclub, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:05:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19702882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HonestVal/pseuds/HonestVal
Summary: The death of Sirius was what finally shattered Harry and what happened after would change his life forever. Drugs, sex and alcohol lead to an unexpected encounter and a new hope.He's loved and lost before. This time he's never letting go. Harry will do anything to protect his new love, no matter what the cost...





	1. Harmony

They met here every other night. It had become an unspoken rule between the two of them.

Every time he went to leave the other man would turn to him and raise one of those perfectly sculpted eyebrows, his lips quirked in amusement. He never asked if they would meet again, or even commanded him, he’d simply pull that expression as if to say 'you wouldn't dare stay away'. Harry knows he's right. He could never refuse.

It was two weeks into the summer when he'd first gone to a club. His uncle Vernon had been delighted when learning of his godfather's death and decided it was about time Harry had started paying back his debts. As his workload got larger the time he was given got smaller and Vernon was never happy when his tasks weren't completed on time. He spent most of the first week in perpetual pain with bruises covering his back and his arms, there was never a day when his shirts and sheets weren't stained in blood or a moment where he wasn't wincing in pain. 

He'd tried to run one night, having scraped together what little money he had he dragged his trunk through the streets of Surrey and caught a bus into London. There, he’d managed to find a room in a run-down pub/inn where most of the patrons were old fat men who spent their days drinking beer, watching football and slowly dying of heart disease. The area surrounding it was a lot worse, the streets were littered with packets and smashed bottles and gave off an air of abandonment and disarray. At night drunk men and women passed out on the streets and dealers prowled for their next unsuspecting victim, nobody was safe. Harry had managed to convince the owner of the inn to let him pull pints in exchange for his room and a small amount of money which he used to buy food from the local one-stop. His job was generally unpleasant, especially when he ended up dealing with drunken customers vomiting on the counter and calling out inappropriate comments. After a few days he’d learned to stop caring, it was better than the Dursleys either way. 

It was on one of the particularly rowdy nights when Harry had stepped outside. A steady procession of people along the street had caught his attention, all of them were young and scantily clad in bright vinyl and tight leather. Harry had felt compelled to follow them and he'd soon been drawn towards a large building covered in obscene neon graffiti, strobe lighting flashed from inside and the pounding sound of a bass permeated the air and wracked Harry's bones.

Harry had slipped through the front door of _Harmony_ behind a group of half-naked giggling women and followed them onto the dance floor amidst the writhing mass of sweaty bodies.

This was where his spiral downward had begun.

Harry, like so many before him, had found comfort in the burn of alcohol sliding down his throat and the blurry cloud that filled his brain and lowered his inhibitions for hours after. He'd delighted in the bright colours and the feeling of ecstasy as he let himself go to the brightly coloured pills and various powders that the man with the black hat had sold him in the alleyway. He'd sought the company of others, lost himself in drunken fucks with men, women and everything in between. He'd lost his virginity pressed up against a dirty wall in a bathroom stall with the door wide open for everyone to see, he'd been too high to separate the pain from the pleasure and too drunk to remember much the morning after.

Harry had been torn apart after Sirius’ life, desperate for anything to help him forget. Processing it was too much, his only option was to let himself go to the synthetic bliss surrounded by unknown faces in places where no one knew him and he would never have to confront his fears.

Harry had roamed the streets in search of better clubs and heightened experiences, eventually he'd found himself in the center of London in a place much cleaner than his usual haunts. Unlike Harmony, this place wasn't home to brightly dressed junkies and alcoholics. There were university students and teens, not here for sex or to drown their sorrows but simply for a night out with their friends to break the monotony. The people here didn't have to be high for their faces to be lighted with a smile. They didn't come here to be fucked and used and thrown away.

The drinks were different too, just as strong but injected with fruit syrups and given cutesy names. There weren't dark men hiding in corners and the toilets were bright blue and although not perfectly pristine they had clearly been cleaned at some time in the day in preparation for the night ahead. This place felt happy, the air tinged with the excitement of youth.

Something about it seemed refreshing to Harry.

He was already halfway through his fifth drink, some dark blue concoction with raspberries floating inside and a pink oriental style umbrella, when his eyes were drawn towards the dance floor.

Groups of friends dancing and laughing, couples kissing and grinding up against each other and in the center of the dance floor was a boy, no a man, dancing and swaying on his own. His clothes were out of place, grey slacks and a lavender silk shirt, everything about him spoke of wealth and class. At some point during the night he'd ditched his jacket and tie, unbuttoned his shirt and let go. His hair was mussed and his skin lightly flushed, his shirt rumpled, the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to expose perfect milky flesh.

Something at the back of his mind, within the stormy cloud of lust and drunken unawareness, recognized the pale skin and platinum hair that belonged to a familiar foe. But that was cloaked behind the thick layers of his alcohol induced state and he'd managed to pull himself from his seat at the bar and drag himself over the other man. Sneaking up behind him he'd wrapped his arms around the other's waist and leaned down to nibble along the smooth skin of his neck. The man snapped his neck around in an abrupt motion to stare at him, mercury eyes flashing with recognition and something dark akin to anger and hatred.

"Potter.." he growled and Harry barely even recognized it as his own name before he was grinding his aching hardness against his ass. The man let out a helpless moan.

Things only escalated from there.

From a distance, the other man's body seemed almost feminine, but as he felt the lean muscles underneath his hands and the hard cock pressed against his thigh he knew that this could be nothing other than a man. He was truly beautiful, more than Harry had ever experienced before. He was a masterpiece of sharp edges and svelte curves, his body perfectly melded against his own and Harry couldn't bring himself to care that the other stood inches taller than him, it only improved the image. A pure white and ethereal being who stood above the rest and that Harry could only look on with awe.

Harry had bought the man a drink and it wasn't long before they were both too drunk to stop themselves.

Draco woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed with a tanned arm wrapped securely around his torso as images from the night before.

He wasn't quite sure how he'd found his way to the club, he'd only visited one time before with Blaise and had spent the whole night sitting at the bar and sipping continuous streams of cloudy lemonade as his friend chatted up women on the dance floor, enticing them with his exotic looks and accent as well as his charm. Draco had been reluctant to interact with muggles and so had avoided joining the sweaty group of horny students.

Last night had been different. Last night Draco had been out of his mind with pain and anger and sadness. At his mother, at himself and at _him._ The one who had stolen away and tainted his father and would forever stain his name and his future. _That man_ had branded him last night, not as an ally or even a follower as the monster always claimed but as cattle forced to do his bidding. Dark and unfamiliar magic now flowed through his veins like treacle making him feel dirty and nothing he did would wash away the crawling feeling across his skin.

So he'd ran from the manor and took the Knight Bus into the center of London hoping to find his way to a suitable establishment where he could stay the night, at least until he regained his dignity. Unfortunately for Draco, he had never deigned to look at a map of London as he always relied on wizarding transport and magical location to get him around. By some miraculous occurrence, he'd found his way back to the club and had traded his lemonade at the bar for something stronger to numb the pain radiating from his arm. Somehow he'd found his way onto the dance floor and, eventually, into a strangers bed.

But it wasn't a stranger, he could remember that clearly now. The face he'd seen when he'd turned around and the body that had pressed against him, _inside him_ , many times in those dark hours. It was Potter, he knew that now, the face he least wanted to see yet somehow seemed to make him feel more comfortable than he had at any point in the last year. Anything was better than living in the same house as the Dark Lord.

He felt a finger tracing the inside of his arm, the movement soothing against the raw flesh as the calloused digits rubbed against him. "I remember now", the other man murmured. "Death Eater". It was a statement, soft and only slightly accusing.

He flipped around so his eyes could meet emerald green, wrenching himself from out of his arms. "So what if I am?" he snarled. "You'll be dead before you can even think of reporting me". He reached out for a wand that wasn't there. Of course not, this wasn't his room and his wand wasn't safely stashed in his bedside drawer. 

Draco flinched back out of bed and hurried to grab his clothes. "I swear to Merlin Potter if you ever speak of this to anyone I'll ruin you before you even have a chance to pull your wand".

"At least I don't have mine stashed up my ass".

Draco winced at the dull pain in his lower back as he bent down to pull on his shoes and tie his laces, he turned around to see Potter watching him intently as his pupils began to dilate. "Don't you even think about it Scarface".

"You don't have to go", the other man murmured.

"I'd rather not stay in this trash heap for any longer", he sniffed the air in disdain and almost gagged at the mildew and rot in the air.

"Sorry. Its just they're usually gone by morning".

Draco scoffed, "So you fuck people often? I didn't take you for a slut Potter. Its funny, I'd imagined you a sentimental virgin who was waiting to confess your love to the Weaslette before you married and popped out hundreds more little weasels".

"Oh fuck off Malfoy".

"You were saying quite the opposite last night".

Potter groaned, "This was a mistake".

"As are most things in your life, but like some particularly stubborn bacteria you manage to survive. It disappoints me every time I hear of your continued existence".

"Well you're not that pleasant yourself thanks". 

Draco took the time to peruse the room and its old ratty furniture. The small table was littered with bottles and bags of pills and powders, there was glass smashed in various places and the whole room had the smell of sex and vomit as well as the aforementioned mildew.

"You know drugs are bad for you don't you Potter? I'd realised you were of subpar intelligence but I didn't think you dumb enough to commit drug-induced suicide".

"I'm not trying to kill myself".

"So you're an active magizoologist then? Because I can see no other reason why you have enough drugs and alcohol to put a hippogriff into a coma".

He did the last button on his shirt up and pulled his tie and jacket from where he'd shrunk them down to fit into his pocket. "Good day, Potter. I hope to be reading your obituary very soon".

Of course, no obituary came. And neither of them said a word when they met again in the club two days later, or any time after that. The only sounds heard were that of bliss.


	2. Unpredictable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco decides to take some action

As soon as Harry woke up, something hit him hard in the stomach and he choked loudly as the air was knocked out of him. He looked up to find an amused looking blond standing across the room from him wearing nothing but a towel and a pair of leather sandals, his hair still wet and mussed from the shower.

Harry reached down to examine the bottle that was now lying in his lap and read the label proclaiming it to be _Humphrey Herberts Hangover Healer._ He raised his eyebrows dubiously and took a sniff, almost gagging at the smell of rotten eggs. “Just drink”, the other man commanded and not wanting to fuel his ire Harry downed it quickly. His vision slowly started to become clearer and the ache in his mind lessened.

”Interesting choice of clothes you’ve got there”, Harry managed to choke out as as he tried to clear the last remnants of the putrid potion from where it had coated his throat.

”Don’t pretend you know anything about style Potter”, Malfoy sneered as he waved his wand over one of the rickety wooden chairs to clean it before taking a seat and crossing his legs elegantly and examining his feet. “I decided it was better to wear shoes than submit my delicate feet to the biohazard that is your floor.”

”Come on! I clean it every other day!”

Malfoy turned his nose up, “I’m not blind Potter and what I see begs to differ. Now gets up and get dressed”.

”Piss off Ferret I’m having a lie in”.

”And I couldn’t care less about your sleep schedule. We’re going out”.

Harry furrowed his brow, “What?”

”Are you really that thick?” The blond growled. “I’m taking you on a trip, an educational experience if you will”.

”Really? What are you going to teach me, The Art of Being An Asshole?”

”I think you manage that well enough on your own”.

Malfoy stood and chucked him a pair of jeans and a dark red t-shirt, “Get dressed and pack all of your things in your trunk. We won’t be coming back”.

”Where do you expect me to go then?” Harry frowned.

”Well thats part of the learning experience. Hurry up then”.

Malfoy ceremoniously dropped his towel, leaving his dripping wet pale skin free for Harry to browse. The man snorted and murmured something about perverts under his breath before he pulled on a pair of black slacks, a light grey shirt and finished it off with a blue tie and a long black over-robe that was similar in appearance to a muggle trench coat. He laced up a pair of black leather shoes and began to brush his hair, arranging it in a perfectly pristine manner. He turned to Harry with a raised brow and motioned for him to hurry up.

He quickly scrambled out of bed and pulled on the clothes and a pair of of ratty blue trainers that had probably belonged to Dudley at some point in their long lifetime. “Sit”, Malfoy commanded and reached into his pocket to pull out a small case. Opening it up, he revealed various brushes, powders and liquids. It took Harry a moment for him to recognise them and he let out a derisive laugh, “Make-up Malfoy? I didn’t realise you were such a girl”.

The man glared, “Male celebrities wear make-up all the time. When you’re in the public eye you always have to look your best, I have a reputation to maintain and so do you. I won’t be leaving this sorry excuse for an inn with you looking like a washed out drug abuser”.

He dipped his brush into one of the powers and slowly started to draw over Harry’s face in small strokes that tickled his skin. After a few ten minutes the man sat back and passed him a mirror with a contemplative look on his face, “It’ll do for now”. Harry examined himself in the mirror and was impressed to see that the affect of his red rimmed eyes and slightly blotchy skin had mostly disappeared and left him leaving younger and more awake than he had in weeks.

”Of course”, Malfoy slyly pointed out. “You would look much better if you stopped snorting cocaine and drinking vodka every time you felt melancholy.”

”Its none of your business”, he snapped out.

Malfoy snorted, “It is when I let you fuck me. I don’t like my toys to be broke ”.

”Maybe you should piss off and find someone better then”.

The blond let out a dramatically sorrowful sigh, “Oh but I’ve tried! I’ve already had sex with most of the older men in Slytherin and even in Ravenclaw. Most of them are either self obsessed, extremely naive or simply pretending to be gay because they can’t get it anywhere else.“

”So you accuse me of being a slut when you’re one yourself?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Well its completely different isn’t it. I have sex with people who I’m at least acquaintances with and at least have the decency to use a bed or a comfortable chaise during the act. You, however, pick up random strangers and let them fuck you into a wall. Its hardly classy, Potter”.

”Point taken”, he quickly zipped up his fly and started to shove clothes and objects inside his trunk. His hand hesitated over a small bag of powder that Malfoy quickly snatched away.

”Life Lesson Number 1: Drugs are dangerous. These ones in particular because they were made for muggles who have a different physiology, their bodies react to things differently than ours do. Which is why muggles should never take potions and wizards should never take muggle made drugs. These affect muggles badly, they’ll affect you far worse”. Malfoy slammed his foot on the bin pedal and dropped the offending bag inside. “If you want to be a junkie, there are far safer potions that you can take”.

Malfoy waved his wand and the trunk quickly shrunk, Harry stowed it away in his pocket and followed the blond as he marched out of the room, down the stairs and out the building into broad daylight. Harry was eternally grateful for the hangover potion.

“Life Lesson Number 2: When you’re rich, don’t settle for anything less than what you can afford. Your family is rolling in it Potter you can do far better than this shithole and its only fitting for someone of your status”.

”All my money is in Gringotts”, he said dumbly and the Malfoy Heir rolled his eyes. “Well then we’re going to have to get it aren’t we”.

Harry flinched back, “No. You can’t, I won’t go back there”.

”So you’d rather live in this filth and drink yourself to death. Its nice to know you’ve got your priorities straight.”

”Its too soon”, he mumbled.

”When will it not be? If you don’t go now you’ll never be able to go anywhere and you’ll end up living as a recluse.”

”What if people recognise me...the Weasleys?”

Malfoy snorted, “They’ll probably be preoccupied controlling their mass of children. I know a back entrance into the alley through one if he residential streets, nobody will notice. I promise”.

Harry nodded slowly and followed Malfoy through the neighbourhood, watching with humour as the man avoided all of the trash on the street and retched at the sight of the vomit covered drunks sleeping under bus shelters. Eventually they found themselves in a more populated area and to an underground station. They took various trains until they got to Charing Cross where Diagon Alley was.

The entrance to the residential street was much classier than the Leaky Cauldron at the back of a large department store in the third changing room behind the lavender curtains. An old woman shopping for lingerie watched them in shock as they both went into the changing room together, obviously thinking they were about to engage in illicit activities. 

Malfoy flipped open a picture frame to reveal a small metal square that he waved his wand over. The square flashed blue and the wall opened into an open courtyard with a fountain in the middle. The whole area was very posh, all the buildings were stone townhouses and the path was paved in white marble. “Mother has an old family townhouse here. Most of the Black family properties are in England or France, the same can be said for the Malfoys”.

He was led down the street towards a large marble archway connected to the the Alley. They came out on the right hand side of the bank, not having been spotted yet, and immediately headed up the steps into the main bank where people were milling about. The goblins were as stone faced and rude as ever and Malfoy marched right through the middle of everything up to the main teller.

”We must see Gruld immediately”, he commanded in an imperious voice, his head held high and the best superior expression he could muster upon his face.

”Name”, the Goblin growled.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, Heir to the Noble and Moste Ancient House of Malfoy and the Ambroise of the Loire. My companion is Harry James Potter, Heir to House Potter and Noble and Moste Ancient House of Black. We are here to inquire into the state of his accounts”.

The Goblin grunted and thrust out a piece of paper. “Sign here”. Malfoy took the quill and signed his name in an elegant cursive before handing it to Harry who scrawled his name out haphazardly. “Room 14”. Malfoy marched off through the door and Harry followed sedately behind into a long marble corridor with hundreds of golden doors. 

Without knocking, Malfoy opened the door and took a seat opposite a short particularly old looking goblin who was peering over his reading glasses at a long list of bank transactions.

”Malfoy”.

“We’d like to request an overview of Heir Potters account and investments”.

”Hand please”. Malfoy grasped Harry’s hand and presented it to the goblin who pricked his finger, ignoring his indignant yelp, and place the drops of blood onto a piece if silvery parchment which he then presented to the pair.

Harry examined the sheet warily, there were lists and lists of names and amounts of money that Harry couldn’t even begin to make sense of. Malfoy, sensing his hesitance, rolled his eyes and began to point things out.

”This is a list of all the Houses you’re related to, of course most Purebloods are interrelated so that can be disregarded.” He pointed to a list in dark gold with three names on it. “The first two, Potter and Black, are Houses that you’ve been directly named Heir of. The last one, Peverell, you haven’t been name Heir of but are eligible to claim the title. Peverell is an old family that went dead in the male line centuries ago, its surprising no one has claimed it till now. There’s a list of all of your accessible accounts including your personal trust, Heir trusts for Black and Potter as well as the main vaults for both Houses.”

He passed over the list to Harry who choked when seeing some of the figures for his bank accounts. “Fucking hell”, he murmured.

”I told you you were quite well off. We’d like to commission a Gringotts Express Card and cheque book to be linked to the Black and Potter family vaults”.

The Goblin grunted and reached underneath the desk to pull out a sleek black card similar to a muggle credit card and a large white stack of cheques. 

“I hope everything's up to your satisfaction”, the Goblin ground out.

”Yes thank you”, Malfoy said in an offhand manner. Harry’s eyes roamed down the list of properties, many of which had notes attached saying they had been destroyed including Godric’s Hollow where he’d lived as a baby and Potter Manor itself. He tried to ignore the name Grimmauld Place and the memories attached to it, instead paying attention to the name of a small apartment in Kensington that Malfoy had also noticed. 

“Well I suppose its better than the inn”, Harry nodded along in silent agreement. 

* * *

They arrived at the apartment not long after. It was on the top floor of a typical Kensington townhouse but, like many magical homes, it was larger on the inside than it looked. It had three bedrooms and could comfortably house a small family. The kitchen, dining area and living room were all open plan and decorated in light antique furniture in chalky paints. It was the sort of place Harry could’ve seen himself living in the future, working in the small office and spending his time with some imaginary family. Of course, all if that seemed unlikely now.

”It’s disgustingly muggle”, Malfoy sneered as he prodded at the electric kettle with a perfectly manicured finger. 

“Its not your apartment”.

The Malfoy Heir rolled his eyes and collapsed into a chair, “Of course not. I’d never move into the inner city I do so love my privacy. At the Manor I can roam the grounds naked if I wish and nobody would bat an eyelid.” He furrowed his brow, “Well. Not anymore”.

Harry chuckled, “I take it your mum doesn’t like the nudity”.

Malfoy waved away the suggestion, “Mother’s out socialising far too much for her to notice anything that I do. No, its the guests that are interrupting”.

”Guests?” Harry asked, his head tilted in curiosity.

”Yes well my family keeps some interesting company”.

Suddenly things became a hell of a lot clearer. From the dark stain on Malfoy’s forearm to the reason the man seemed so adamant to hang around Harry even when he hated him with a passion. He was running away, and now he knew who from.

”Voldemort’s in your house”. The blond flinched imperceptibly.

”He needed a base of operations.” Malfoy said quietly. “He said it was because we were his richest and most loyal followers but I know thats not the truth. He branded me and then stationed all of his loyal pets in my home to threaten me. He knows that I’m the only thing left my Father has, so he uses me as leverage.”

”You didn’t want it”, Harry realised in horror. 

Malfoy smiled coldly, “Of course I didn’t want it Potter. If I had my way I’d have pissed off to France as soon as this whole mess began. But now I’m stuck with his mark on my arm and the threats coming at me from every angle. If I obey him, I face Azkaban if he loses, if I try to run, he’ll kill me. Tell me Potter, what am I supposed to do?”

”But you’re here now!” Harry exclaimed. “You don’t have to go back!”

The blond scoffed, “So I should just abandon my Mother and everything I’ve ever known to run off with an unstable alcoholic. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that thats not a good idea”.

”There has to he something you can do” Harry whispered.

“Lets face it Potter we’re both screwed no matter who wins.”

”Then we should make the most of what time we have left, shouldn’t we?”

Malfoy snorted, “Aren’t you far too sober? You never do anything without at least 4 drinks in your system”.

”Maybe I want to remember this time”, Harry shrugged. “Come on Malfoy, we still haven’t checked out the bedroom”.

”Draco”, the man announced and Harry quirked a brow. 

“You’ve had your dick up my ass I think thats intimate enough for us to use first names”.

Harry grinned and walked over, pulling the blond into a passionate and lustful kiss as his tongue slipped in between pink lips to taste the sweetness that was Draco’s mouth, his calloused fingers ran through silky platinum hair as the other arm wrapped around a slender waist and grasped his hip tightly, feeling the other mans half-hard arousal pressed up against him.

”I take it thats the first time you’ve kissed someone sober” Draco as said in a breathy voice, trying to maintain the typical Malfoy mask but failing as Harry started to mark his neck slowly and seductively. 

“Definitely the best by far”, Harry growled out as he picked the other man up and prompted him to wrap his legs around his waist, then he carried him towards the largest bedroom and dumped him onto the silky blue sheets. “Top or bottom?” He growled out as he yanked the his top over his head and threw it across the room.

”You think it would be obvious by now”, Draco moaned as he unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt before Harry took the initiative and simply ripped it off him. Draco mourned for expensive italian silk that could never be repaired but his mind was soon overtaken by the lust.

”You’ve always been unpredictable”.

Draco smirked as he started to unzip his slacks, “You’ve never been more right”.


	3. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is given an impossible task and the future seems far bleaker than before.

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Draco looked up from where he was unscrewing the lid from a large bottle of whiskey and started to pour it into the sink. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

”I bought them this morning”.

”And I’m throwing them out this afternoon”, the blond stated matter of factly. “Really that's a very short life span for such an expensive bottle. Perhaps you should invest your money more wisely”. 

“Yeah, well, I now have money to spare”.

”Which I intended for you to use on important things, such as your horrendous wardrobe or your lack of knowledge about what constitutes a healthy meal. Seems Gryffindors can’t be trusted with anything these days”, he sneered and Harry couldn’t help but scoff. “Says the slimy snake”.

Harry watched as the last bottle, a small one filled with raspberry flavored vodka that he'd bought from the reduced aisle, was poured down the sink and the bottle shoved into the large black bin bag that Malfoy had set aside for the apartment purge. He felt the corner of his eye twitch as he stopped himself from saying something else, knowing that it was more than his life was worth to get into an argument with the blond, especially at this time in the morning.

"I've decided that we're going out today", Draco announced with no small amount of grandeur. 

"Where do you propose?" Harry asked in amusement as he wandered his way over to the large bin bag and carried it towards the door, mourning the loss of money and sweet liquor as he went. 

"I wouldn't mind shopping, maybe lunch if you were willing?" Draco smiled in an odd and sort of jaunty way that Harry had never seen on any Slytherin's face let alone The Prince himself. It left his brain feeling a bit more confused and he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably where he was leaning against the door.

"Whatever you want Malfoy".

Harry quickly ran out the door and down the steep staircases, narrowly avoiding a young woman who was whistling as she walked towards her apartment reading various letters. The back door led out into a relatively clean alleyway where bins from some of the other houses and apartment buildings were. He quickly tipped the bag upside down in the recycling bin, wincing at the sound of clanging bottles at the bottom of the wheely bin just emptied that morning, before disposing of the bag itself in the other bin and running back upstairs to where Draco was now sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cappuccino from a coffee machine that he didn't know he had and flicking through a magazine lazily looking at clothes. He held an image up to show Harry of a tanned blond wizard wearing a set of pale gray and lilac robes in not a dissimilar shade to the ones Malfoy had been wearing a few weeks ago. The blond in the image winked at him then sauntered off to the back of the picture where multiple other wizards and witches were showcasing the new formal range.

"Do you think I'd look good in this?" he asked with pursed lips as he examined the image with scrutinous eyes.

"You'd like fine", Harry said in exasperation and the blond rolled his eyes. 

"I don't know why I'd ask you any way you have as much fashion sense as a hag in a hessian sack. I don't know how anyone takes you shopping".

"They don't", Harry shrugged. "Most of the time I get my cousins hand me downs and whatever I can afford from a charity shop".

Draco looked absolutely horrified like he'd just killed his favourite puppy and done a shit on its remains. "How...I don't", his mouth gaped open like a fish. "That's preposterous!"

"Yes well, Aunt Petunia never did like me to have nice things".

The blond threw him over the magazine along with a few more on top of it, "They're mail order. We can take your measurements later and send in requests for any changes or colour requests. I won't have you looking like a homeless hag any longer."

Harry flicked through, noticing how most of the clothes were the everyday dress robes and formal grab that Draco and all of his Slytherin friends would wear on the weekends. "Do you not have any catalogs for muggle clothes?"

Draco turned his nose up quickly, "Of course not! They're always exposing themselves in completely inappropriate occasions, I wouldn't dare attend my mothers Yule Ball in some of the clothes that they make it's simply obscene!"

"I for one think you would look great in jeans", Harry commented offhandedly as his hand snaked across the table to grab the mug of coffee and took a large gulp.

"Whats a jean..." Draco blinked owlishly at him in fascination.

Harry couldn't help the snort of amusement. "Jeans, a pair of them, like really tight trousers made out of denim."

"Why would I want to expose myself to everyone", Malfoy scowled. "Surely that's only for _certain occasions._ "

"Yes well some people wear them casually and others like to attract attention".

Draco laughed, "I can do that very much on my own thank you. If they don't grasp my attractiveness simply by looking at my face they don't deserve to get a glimpse of my ass".

"Each to their own I guess".

"Merlin I miss Pansy", Malfoy groaned. "She at least knew how to colour coordinate".

"Pugface Parkinson!"

"Yes I must admit she's a bitch in both figurative and literal form, but she does have her bright moments. She's the only one in the year not serious enough to be dour and not careless enough to be a lazy half-wit, everyone else is far too self-obsessed and paranoid to look anywhere past pureblood politics. They're important but my life doesn't have to revolve around them! Blaise is like that, he likes to observe people far too much. I wouldn't be surprised if he kept notes on everyone at Hogwarts, it's downright creepy if you ask me. Of course, when he's not being a stalker he likes to seduce women (occasionally men) and that's a trait I'm certain he received from his mother".

Draco tapped on the mug absently for a moment, staring off into the distance before he suddenly came back down to earth. "I really must apologise, I just remembered something important. Is it ok if we rescheduled that lunch for dinner?" He stood quickly, not waiting for an answer, and pulled on his long coat before heading to the door. The pained wince he made as he reached for the handle didn't go unnoticed by Harry at all. "Again, I'm sorry". Then he was gone and Harry was left feeling quite alone and oddly dissatisfied. He stared up at the ceiling tracing patterns in the swirling paint with his eyes as he came to the sudden realisation that he had absolutely nothing to do.

His eyes strayed to the stack of magazines and he rolled his eyes, "Oh fuck it".

Draco, meanwhile, was strolling quickly down the pathway through the front garden of Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. He could already feel his blood beginning to chill as he passed the fountain which looked frosty itself even though the temperature was a nice seasonable 23 degrees. As he found his way up the path he slowly waved his wand, transfiguring his clothing into the long black robes and pearlescent white mask that were recognisable by all.

He placed the mask on his face and the shame and sadness he felt was washed away immediately by the stone-cold blankness that he was forced to adopt.

His knock on the door was quickly answered by a long lean man with sickly pale skin, those were the only distinguishable features behind the robes. "Name?" the man asked suspiciously.

"You honestly don't think I'm stupid enough to announce that", Draco sneered back and the man nodded sharply at him as he assessed him. Finally considering him to be worthy he opened the door into the white marble hallway that had once been the scene to a delightful, if not misguided, childhood. 

Now, older and disillusioned, Draco returned to face his nightmare.

The man at the door led him into the ballroom where his mother had held many balls and dinners for her pureblood friends. Now it was a scene of violence and despair.

The men and women in black cloaks were standing in a semi-circle facing, those deemed to be more valuable like the inner circle were placed at the front. New recruits and lackeys stood further back. Draco was _lucky_ to be standing in the second row simply because of his father's position and his own value as the Malfoy heir. 

Nobody was valuable enough to stand on the same dais where the Dark Lord had black his throne. 

In the small area in front of the semi-circle, there were still the unmistakable remnants of torn cloth and a smear of blood.

"Ah young Draco", the Dark Lord hissed in his sibilant voice like a snake. It rolled over his skin like a knife, cold and deadly and not at all impressed. "I thought you'd never join us".

Draco was ushered to the front of the room where he knelt gracefully just to the right of the blood, his head bowed in utter submission. He could feel his hands shaking and he kept a white-knuckled grip on his robes. "My Lord, there is nowhere I'd rather be than in your service".

The pale man looked upon him with amusement, red eyes flashing menacingly. "Well, you're not too late for our entertainment to arrive." The man waved his hand absently and a fat balding man scurried to the door. Unlike the others present, he was wearing tattered brown robes and his sparse mousy hair, watery eyes and shifty demeanor were seen by all. 

When the man returned a woman was floating behind him, front-facing downward with her hands and legs tied behind her back. Her blond hair was matted red with blood and her dress has ripped down the front. Draco dreaded to know what had happened before he arrived.

"My inner circle", the hideous man began, "Is only filled by the strongest and most loyal in my service. For years your father served me well and brought great success to our faction before his _indisposal_. It's only right that I give his heir the opportunity to follow in his footsteps". He gestured towards the woman, "Your challenge, the first of many to come, is before you now."

With a flick of his wand, the woman was awake and squirming once again, her eyes wide in shock and disbelief as her muscles spasmed and her fingers tried to grasp onto invisible binds.

"This woman, innocent in her actions but treasonous in her views". The dark lord turned his crimson eyes on Draco, "You see Draco it isn't the Order that are the most dangerous. When the battles are over and the wars are won they will be dead, it is those that are left behind that matter. The civilians, the innocents who make up the world majority. As long as they have a small spark of anger and resentment against us our empire will crumble. It is our job to destroy that spark and to show them the true path to redemption".

Draco's eyes met the woman's and he could see the pleading within her eyes, the terrors she'd already experienced before and the horror she felt at what was to come. 

"Crush her", the dark lord hissed ruthlessly.

"My Lord", came the silky voice of another man as he floated to the front of the room to stand beside Dracos kneeled form, his eyes fell upon the woman with thinly veiled disgust and some other emotion he couldn't identify. "The boy is hardly experienced in such matters. In your own words, the inner circle is compiled of only the most elite. Surely he requires more training before he receives the honour of joining our ranks".

Snape, he realised now. The man of many words and just as many lies, all of them as indecipherable as the another. 

"True as always Severus", the man murmured. "And yet you could not be more wrong. I have the utmost confidence that Draco will succeed in his endeavors".

Draco stood slowly, barely making contact with the professor from the corner of his eye. "Of course my lord". His wand slipped effortlessly into his hand from where it was stashed within his sleeve. 

_For mother_ , he assured himself in that small voice that became weaker and less believable every day. Then _I'm sorry Harry._

And with a harsh whisper, he made her scream harder than she'd ever screamed in her life. Binds fell away with the force of his magic and her own struggles, she collapsed to the floor as her muscles froze and she twitched in pain. Barely healed wounds burst open and blood pooled around her as she spasmed on the floor, her neck sorely contorted and the whites of her eyes the only thing he could see within his mind.

_This is what you've become. A monster no better than your father, no more than a Death Eater by name and by nature._

He was sweating, his whole body shaking visibly by now but the pain he felt in his soul would never compare to the pain he caused her. _Worse men enjoy this pain,_ he reminded himself, _find solace in the fact you never will._

"You see Severus?" The Dark Lord asked in a voice quieter than her screams but seemed to drown it with the weight of his words. "The boy is more than capable of any task I could set for him".

"I should never have questioned you, My Lord" he bowed his head solemnly.

"And that is why you are my best Severus, a weak man grovels and pleads for forgiveness, a wise man sees the error in his ways and seeks for betterment." His eyes zeroed back in on Draco, "You did a good job Draco, but you didn't do enough. I have a final task for you, to prove that you are worthy. Are you willing to take it? Are you a wise man? Or a weak one?"

"I wish to be wise", he gasped out as he finally released his spell and let the physical and magical exhaustion overtake him. 

"Then you must rid me of the one they believe is the wisest of them all", the Dark Lord stood triumphantly his reptilian features twisted into a horrific image of mock pleasure. "By this time next year, Albus Dumbledore will be dead! And Draco will be the one to do it!" He spread his arms, thin lips forming a parody of a smile.

Quiet murmurs of dissent quickly grew into screams and shouts, cries of encouragement, insults towards the headmaster and most of all calls for his death.

He, weak and inexperienced Draco Malfoy, was tasked with the murder of the greatest wizard of the century and the defeater of Europe's most feared Dark Lord.

Suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of empathy towards Potter. With the weight of the world on his shoulders, he glanced to the one man willing to meet his eyes. 

Severus Snape, eyes narrowed in confusion and brow creased in worry for a mere second before it was quickly concealed. He received a sharp nod before the dark man swept from the room with all the grandiose of a ring leader but an air like death himself.

Then Draco was on his own.


	4. Schemes

Albus Dumbledore signed off on one of the latest batches of paperwork from the board of governors and let out a deep sigh, popping one of Honeyduke's _extra sour_ lemon drops into his mouth. The recent topic of conversation at the meetings had been the recent rise in death eater attacks and how best to protect the students. In the end, it had been agreed that Aurors would be stationed around the school and in Hogsmeade as a secondary defense.

From the beginning of September, practice drills would occur so that the students could learn escape routes and hiding places for if the school was attacked.

Albus had signed the papers with a heavy heart, he wished for nothing more than for these papers to be unnecessary. If Hogwarts wasn't safe, then where was? 

A sharp knock came from the door and he plastered a genial smile on his face, "Come in".

A tall dour man swept into the room, still wearing black robes, his hands ever so slightly flecked with blood. "Ah Severus, I wasn't expecting you at this time of night". He pushed forward the small copper bowl filled with sweets on his desk, it was intricately carved with patterns of Pheonix and fire and was a cherished gift from a student who'd gone on to become a master craftsman. "Sherbert lemon? Or if it's not to your liking I have some cockroach clusters in my drawer somewhere".

"Now is not the time for meaningless words and childish treats Albus", the man snarled and Albus instantly sat up in his chair ignoring the creak in his old bones.

"What ails you, child?"

"What ails me?" He snapped. "What ails me is the fact that the Dark Lord has just sentenced an innocent boy to death".

Albus raised his eyebrows in shock at Severus' tone. It was certainly not the first time Tom had harmed a child and each time had caused great sadness and regret for Albus, but Severus had built a resilience to such things and it had been a long time since he had shown such distress over the harm of a child. At least openly. Something was very wrong.

"Who?" 

"Draco Malfoy", the man's tone softened immeasurably yet still undercut by the seething fury. "He's given the boy a task he knows its impossible to complete".

"What is it?" he asked quietly, almost dreading the answer. There was no limit to Toms evil and any task he'd set was sure to be horrific in its cruelty. The young Malfoy, whilst often misguided, did not deserve to have his soul blackened in such a way. 

Severus glared at him intensely with piercing onyx eyes, "He demands your murder".

The revelation would've been shocking on any other day, whether it be the idea of his own death or the fact that his executioner was proclaimed to be a young boy of only 16. But the fire that had spread through his veins and withered his limbs told him that his death warrant had been signed long ago.

"And he shall have it", he pronounced with startling finality.

"Albus you can't be serious", he hissed. 

"My fate was decided long ago Severus, I must die". The man opened his mouth, surely to deliver one cutting remark or another but the headmaster halted him with a stern glance. "The only choice is out of our hands. We must give Draco every opportunity we can to choose a better path, such a young bird should not be thrown away before it has the chance to fly, but we cannot force his hand. His path must be his own".

"And if he chooses to spare your life?"

"Then there is only one man I can trust to take it", Albus replied with an odd look in his eye. It took a moment for Severus to understand.

"I can't".

"You _must_. You have told me many times that Voldemort is beginning to doubt your loyalty, this is the only way to ensure he trusts you. Tom is an intelligent man, but his greatest flaw is his arrogance. With me out the way, he'll think the path to his victory is clearly paved and he'll become complacent. The Order can use that and your knowledge to their advantage".

"You're risking your life for a barely conceived plan". 

Albus laughed kindly, "I'm a man of many plans Severus. Didn't you know that?"

"And how many of them have succeeded?"

"Well, to be honest, I often forget to count, the view from my window is quite beautiful at this time of night and I'm often too distracted by the sound of birds to _'crunch numbers'_ as they say".

Severus scoffed, "The eccentric old man act fools no one, Albus. Especially not me".

"Really?" the headmaster asked seemingly put out. "I must ask for a refund then, the muggle acting coach was very convincing when he said I was his best student."

Severus simply sneered at him in disgust.

* * *

The second Draco returned to the apartment, he went straight for the liquor cabinet. "Fuck", he cursed to himself as he was met with bottles of hand-pressed lemonade that he'd replaced Harry's alcohol with. The only other drinks in the house were bottled water or the fruit smoothies he'd forced Harry to make to _brighten his complexion._ Merlin, he could be such a prissy prick sometimes.

He heard a snort and turned around to see Potter lounging on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other as he peered over the top of an out of the summer copy of _Scintillating Sorcerers._ His arrangement was one that Draco himself would often adopt whilst lounging in his room back at the manor, he shuddered, wasn't that a terrifying thought?

"Why are you still awake?"

Draco sneered, "I was occupied, my beauty sleep had to be delayed".

"To do what?"

"I was having tea with my mother, if you must know", he replied snidely as he wandered into the kitchen area, he started to reach out to press one of the peddles on the kettle but stopped halfway thinking better of it. Instead, he flicked his wand and boiling water poured out of his wand and into the two purple mugs on the worktop. He dunked in the tea bags, breakfast tea for Harry and chamomile for himself, and then went to sit on the sofa as the cups, milk, sugar and biscuits floated in behind him and found their places on the coffee table. Harry watched mildly impressed.

"I thought you'd be tired of tea by now", Harry commented.

Draco simply sniffed, "One can never be tired of tea, Potter, don't be so uncivilized. Besides its chamomile.."

"So it's relaxing", Harry finished as if he'd heard the sentence a million times before.

"Don't do that, it's rather unsettling".

"I didn't think your mum was that vicious".

Draco's eyes narrowed, "I wouldn't start this conversation if I were you.."

"Relax, I wasn't gonna say anything bad about her. It's just you seem a bit worse for wear, didn't realise tea parties could do that to you. What do I know? The _Upper Class_ is a whole different ball game". His eyes flickered down to Draco's palms that were grazed and red, and then to his pale face and limbs that were still shaking ever so lightly. 

"Yes well mother does get ever so enthusiastic over her macarons, she gets a bit _vicious_ when I suggest she shares."

"Cut the bullshit", Harry growled.

"I'd rather not it would be quite messy".

"You know what I bloody well mean".

"Of course I do", Draco sneered, "I'm not an idiot like some people in the room. Not that I'm naming names of course".

"Well, how was he then?" 

Dracos eyes flickered up to them, his eye twitched in annoyance. "Spiffing, as usual". Happy, insanely so as only a Dark Lord can be. He could see it, crimson eyes gleaming in triumph, like blood, his hand tensed around the mug as voices from before began to fade back into his mind. Without the alcohol, there was no chance he'd be sleeping tonight.

Harry leaned forward across the table and grasped his mug from his shaking hands to place it down against the sugar pot. Tanned hands ran through pale hair, to rearrange it back into a parody of its earlier perfection and emerald green eyes peered into his own, "You're scared".

"And the award for stating the obvious goes to.." he stopped when he recognised the look in the other's eyes. His voice became soft and a lot quieter, "When am I ever not?"

"What happened, what did he do?"

"There was a woman, they raped her". At the dark look in Harry's eye, he hastened to clarify, "I didn't. I got there after but..you could tell."

"And what did _you_ do?" Of course Harry knew, for somebody with average intelligence he was overly perceptive.

"I made her _scream_ ".

Harry tensed, his jaw clenched as he leaned back to watch him, "Is she alive?"

"Barely", he whispered. "But I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up on the Janus Thickey ward."

"It's not your fault", Harry said but he could tell neither of them were truly convinced.

"I should've done more, but what can I do? He controls me, they don't tell you it but the moment he puts his brand on your arm you stop being yourself. He _owns_ me. He could bind my magic or drain it dry if he wished, in his eyes I am nothing, and if he wished I would become nothing as well."

Harry's eye drifted towards his forearm and he pulled back the shirt to reveal the pitch black mark surrounded by red raw skin. "How do we get rid of it?"

"You can't", Draco hissed. "There's nothing anyone can do."

"There has to be.."

"He bound my magic to his", Dracos eyes suddenly became despairing. "What do you think happens to me if he dies?"

Harry froze, "No."

"If he leaves the mortal plane, he drags me and every other Death Eater with him. Or at least he takes our souls". _Like a dementor's kiss._

"Doesn't it feel good Harry?" Draco smiled sweetly, his silver eyes as sharp as daggers. "You always wanted me gone".

"You were a stuck up brat Draco but you weren't a monster, you don't deserve to die".

"Of course I do", he snarled. "The world is a better place without men like me. Any other sane man would agree."

"I thought I deserved to die. Everyone around me seemed to leave, it was my fault. My own recklessness, my stupidity. I thought the world would be better off if I just left, I was half-dead on the inside anyway". Harry sighed, "Then I decided maybe there were things worth trying to live for". His fingers traced Draco's arm before they slipped away, breaking contact between the two of them. 

"Maybe for you".

Harry stood up and slipped into the space on the seat beside him and pulled his head onto his shoulder, something that both warmed Draco and left an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach. 

"People would hate us for this".

"People never seem to like what I do", Harry answered calmly.

"You've changed".

"I grew up, we all do that sometimes". Draco blinked up at him slowly and a smirk drifted onto his face.

"Whatever you say, Potter".

And as Draco slowly drifted off to sleep Harry couldn't help but look down at him in both sadness and wonder. Somehow, Draco was both everything he thought he would be and much much more. He was arrogant and rude as ever, he never hesitated to give his opinions and some of those opinions were of an unsavory sort...but merlin the man was smart. And quick-witted, and more than a bit beautiful, if men could be classed as such. How could one person get on his nerves so much and yet soothe them so well at the same time? There was no doubt he despised Malfoy, but what about Draco? This lost boy he'd come to know and maybe care just a bit about.

Could he hurt him? If it meant Voldemort died and everyone was safe?

Could he willingly let the man die, knowing that his blood would be forever on his hands? Maybe he could, but he knew that the guilt would undoubtedly kill him in turn.

They'd die together, he realised, and wasn't that an interesting thought?

He shook his head, _nows not the time to think about death_ he reminded himself. _The dead haunt my dreams enough, I can't let them steal my day too._


	5. Reunion

Perhaps it was Draco being gone for 6 days and the ensuing loneliness that prompted him to get off his ass. 

The blond had left, reluctantly declaring that it would be best if he spent a few days at the manor to halt the suspicions that had grown in his absence. Harry had been left behind with an empty liquor cabinet that he had to stop the urge to fill and nobody to talk to. He had taken to sitting outside one of the small coffee shops with his homework and whatever iced drink was on special.

It was on the 6th day, when his Hogwarts letter arrived smelling like parchment with the familiar purple seal, that he decided to take action. Donning a pair of jean and a dark blue hoodie that he could easily flip up to try and conceal his identity (whilst hopefully not looking like a creep) he ventured into Diagon Alley on his own.

It was busy, as was typical of this time of year when the letters had first been released and everyone was rushing to tick off all the items on the list. He smiled as a young girl ran past followed by her parents who both seemed quite apprehensive, muggles probably. It saddened him to see some of the shops were closed and boarded up, he remembered Fortescue fondly for how kind he'd been in his third year.

Despite the emptiness of some shops, new ones had popped up in their place that attracted the children like moths to a flame. One in particular stood out amongst the rest with its bright multi-colour decor, the sounds of popping and fizzing fireworks along with some ditzy circus tune floated outside. Harry approached carefully, making sure to stay within the crowds. He almost stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the sign.

_WWW: Weasley Wizard Wheezes._

He couldn't stop the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbled out of his throat and a rather large woman stood near him wearing a feather bow sneered in disgust and pulled her child far away from him. Even from outside the window he could see a familiar family of redheads swarming inside, chatting loudly and boisterously. His heart clenched slightly and his tried to shake it off, turning away so that he could head off towards Flourish and Blotts. Inside it was much quieter, less people milling around and those that were were either silently browsing or reading books in the corner of the shop decorated with leather armchairs.

Harry immediately went over to the section that had been designated for Hogwarts books and picked out the ones for 6th years that were written down on his list, his eyes were drawn to a new display on the other side of the room with a large sign saying _1/2 price_ looming over it. He drifted towards it, hoping to find something interesting to quell his boredom.

 _Miranda Margom's Magical Makeovers_ was a rather bland book about using beauty spells and matching colours to skin tones that he immediately discarded. There were other books about cookery and some which were dangerously naive about understanding muggles. He recognised one about organising the family that Molly Weasley had been using last summer in an attempt to control the hectic Grimmauld Place but had often left her annoyed, it was no wonder it had ended up in the reduced pile. One of the last ones was a small leather bound book at the bottom pile covered in an extraodinary amount of dust and written in a scrawling writing that could rival his own in an 'unneatness competition'.

"Parvum temporis", he murmured quietly. "Navigating the planes of the past". He narrowed his eyes down at it before shrugging and slipping it into his bag and taking it to the till where the young man looked at it consideringly before shrinking his wares down and saying "Have a nice day!" in the fake overly cheery voice that most salespersons had nowadays.

Leaving the shop, the first thing he noticed was a shock of bright blond hair before somebody barged straight into him rudely, "Watch where you're going Potter", the boy snarled and his eyes met silver as the other strode off towards Knockturn Alley, effortlessly weaving his way through crowds of people. He wore black and was followed by two unfamiliar persons whose faces he didn't have a chance to see properly.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, his heart hammering within his chest as he slipped the small bag of books into his pocket and with a determination that he hadn't experienced in weeks, he pulled up his hood and went to follow the Malfoy Heir into the darkness. 

Borgin and Burkes didn't look much different from the last time he'd seen it, if anything the windows needed a good polish but perhaps the brown tinge was a deliberate move to hide the mysteries inside. He scanned the area, knowing that the second he opened the door it would ring and his cover would be blown. His eyes fell on an old piece of copper pipe that went up the side of the building to the glass roof and he let out a sigh, "The things I'll do for the bloody ferret". Making sure the pipe was securely attached to the wall so he wouldn't fall he put his foot on a box on the floor and used it to lift himself onto the pipe.

It occured to him then that his hands were quite sweaty and his grip on the pipe was definately not as strong as what he usually had to support him on a broom, for once he could understand why some people might be afraid of heights. Steeling himself, he began to climb, shuffling himself up and clinging his feet onto the dents in the pipe and where he could find a hole in the wall, eventually he had inched his way up and collapsed onto the roof with a sigh. He climbed his way up to the flattest part of the roof where he could get a better grip and peered in.

There was group of people, many of them wearing black and all of them crowding around some large piece of forniture. Mr Borgin himself was standing a distance away looking a bit nervous as the group assesed their purchase. He could see Draco, his blond hair standing out amongst the black, was at the front of the group and reaching inside the object. It was a cabinet. 

He tried to lipread but it wasn't his best skill.

"Duh - eet -kuh" all he could work out was syllablles that seemed to make no sense in his mind. He shuffled slightly to see if he could get a bit closer, his hand, just about reach the hold slipped and his whole body started to slide down the roof. He was grasping hard for something to hold onto but he hit the edge of the roof and the guttering with his foot, halting his progress and causing his foot to get caught and twisted. "Shit", he hissed and he tried to peer back into Borgin's where on of the black cloaked people seemed to have noticed a commotion and was approaching the section of the store with the glass roof. 

He scrambled quickly, grabbing the pipe once more and trying to slide down, he landed awkwardly on his injured ankle and shook it out to get rid of some of the pain to no avail. Looking back at the opening door he made a split second decision and he sprinted as fast as he could out of the alley, past the homeless old hag begging on the floor and through the archway until he got lost in the crowds of shoppers. He turned back to see a face in the alleyway in the distance. The face, even shadowed and cloaked, was easy to recognise. _Dolohov._ And the realisation that he'd been trying to suppress in the back of his mind came to the forefront. Draco was in Diagon Alley accompanied by _Death Eaters._

It shouldn't have been surprising, worrying definately, but after all he'd heard about the Malfoys and the sort of _business_ they were associated with at the moment he should have expected this.

It was still shocking though, seeing the man he'd come to know so well meeting with Death Eaters and talking to them with such ease, as if he _belonged._ It was nothing like how he acted when the two were alone, even dissimilar to the spoilt brat he always was at Hogwarts. He was so focused on staring back that he didn't notice that he'd walked into someone.

_What is it with me and not paying attention today?_

He turned, only to see wide brown eyes and bushy brown hair. "Harry?" the girl asked cautiously and almost disbelievingly. The she tugged him into a big hug, yanking down the hood on his jacket to confirm that she indeed was hugging her friend and not some complete stranger. He hugged her back, burying his face in her hair that smelt like toffee apples and taking in a deep breath.

Suddenly she shoved him away and slapped him on the arm. "Ow!" he screeched angrily as he stumbled backwards, his ankle buckling. He rubbed the arm in pain. "What was that for?"

"You didn't reply to any of our letters! We were worried sick!"

"Sorry 'Mione, I was kind of busy", he replied with a wince.

"Running away from the Dursleys?" She asked knowingly. "Dumbledore went to pick you up the other day and you weren't there, your Aunt said you'd been gone for weeks! The order went mad, we thought you'd been kidnapped!"

She looked at him again, seemingly noticing the bags under his eyes and the pained look in his face. "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't hit you that hard did I?"

"I think I twisted my ankle a while ago".

She tutted and grabbed his good arm and started dragging him towards _Weasley Wizard Wheezes,_ "I can get you something for the pain back at the shop." She took him inside and he was shocked by how much brighter and more active it was, he had to duck to avoid a toy owl that flew past his head before bursting into fluffy confetti. 

He could see displays for Skiving Snackboxes and Canary Creams as well as loads of products he hadn't seen before like love potions and these tiny squeaking balls of fluff. The twins stood on the balcony overlooking the store as if surveying their empire with massive grins on both their faces. He could see Ron in one corner looking at Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and Hermione dragged him over to him with a wide smile on her face, "Ron!" The boy jumped and turned around with red tinged cheeks. "Bloody hell 'Mione you scared me!" He turned to Harry with shock on his face, "Mate! Where the hell have you been!" 

"London mostly", he replied with a small smile on his face and Ron grinned in relief. 

"You should've heard some of the storys Fred and George made up about what you were doing", he shuddered slightly. "Some of them were right nasty, thought I was gonna throw up my mashed potatos at one point". He turned around, "Oy mum! Look who's here!"

Molly Weasley turned around about to berate her son for his poor use of language before she stopped to blink, her eyes filling with tears. She rushed over and pulled him into a massive hug, "Oh Harry dear I was so worried. Are you ok? What were you thinking?"

"I'm ok Mrs. Weasley. I've been interrogated by Hermione already".

"Haven't I told you a million times to call me Molly? I should probably send a letter to Dumbledore to let him know you're ok....anyway dear. What do you think of the shop?"

"I think its brilliant" he grinned broadly.

"I admit I wasn't sure at first but the kids seem to like it.." she frowned in contemplation before smiling brightly. "And don't Fred and George look so dapper in their suits!" She smiled in that manner that only proud mothers could achieve before rushing off to persuade Ginny away from buying one of the fluffy monstrositys on display.

"So mate..are you coming to stay at the burrow? You know there's always space on my floor if you don't mind all the cannons posters".

"I'm good thanks, I've actually got my own place". 

Ron looked disbelieving and Hermione a bit apprehensive, "Where?"

"Its just an apartment in Kensington, you can come and stay sometime if I can clean up". He didn't mention that he had had an OCD slytherin living there who would gawk at a single speck of dust and was armed with a wand and an army of loyal house elves that made sure there was no room in the place that wasn't sparkly clean.

"Well if you're sure you're okay on your own", Hermione said in a low tone. "Maybe you could invite Tonks or Moody round to set up some wards? I don't want you staying somewhere where you're not safe".

"Its perfectly safe 'Mione, I inherited it so there are already wards built in". She still looked unsure but Ron just nodded along.

"Well you could still come round for dinner, I'm sure I could get mum to make you treacle tart for dessert".

He smiled, "That'd be great".

He followed after them, trying and failing to put the blond at the back of his mind.


End file.
